


The Ship of Fools

by Cinaed



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Exploring Atlantis, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-23
Updated: 2010-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel returns to Atlantis with a dead man's dust in his mouth, Marshall Sumner's blood drying on his hands, and the image of those awakened Wraith seared forever into his memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ship of Fools

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU for SGA's pilot episode "Rising," based on the idea that Daniel Jackson accompanied them in the initial expedition. Thanks go out to schlicky for beta-reading this for me and being all-around awesome.

"I could make you stay," Jack says.

Daniel just pauses in his packing and looks at him. It's the same argument they've had a dozen times or so since Daniel announced that he would be joining the expedition, and while Daniel knows exactly how this conversation will go, it's wearying nonetheless. "You could," he agrees, because it's true. One or two conversations with the right people and Daniel would be back at the SGC, figuring out what to do about the few Goa'uld that survived the Replicators and settling for dreams of Atlantis and all its wonders. "But you won't."

Jack's mouth twists into a wry smile and he doesn't answer, conceding the point. Jack understands very well what refusing Daniel this opportunity would mean. Denying Daniel Atlantis would be like preparing a feast for a starving man and then not letting him eat. It would be as though Jack were a sentry who refuses to allow Daniel to slake his thirst at an oasis, who lets him die of dehydration and longing just a few feet away in the desert. Daniel knows Jack is not that cruel, even if Jack often pretends to have such ruthlessness within him, even if he _does_ contain such ruthlessness (and which Daniel convinces himself is (mostly) reserved for enemies only).

Daniel looks at Jack for another long moment. Has it really been nine years since they first met? It feels paradoxically longer and shorter than that; then again, being dead for almost a year and finding himself occasionally in alternate universes has made his concept of time a bit unstable when compared to most. He thinks of the empty spaces in his head, bits and pieces of memory that are unlikely to ever return and that Jack and the others don't even realize he's lost. If memory is man's only possession, then Daniel is at once both rich and destitute.

At last, Jack snorts, and Daniel knows he's won this round, just as he's won all of the others. "Just remember to send me a postcard when you get there."

Daniel smiles. "I will." Neither one mentions that this is possibly a one-way trip. Neither of them has to. Daniel thinks of the poet W.H. Auden: _"Being set on the idea of getting to Atlantis, you have discovered of course only the Ship of Fools is__ making the voyage this year." _Jack believes he's being foolish, and perhaps he is. Daniel's still going to Atlantis, whether it brings him grace or ruin.

 

**

**

  


  


All three of his teammates help him pack his life into a surprisingly small number of boxes (well, perhaps not so surprising-- most of what Daniel has cherished in his life are thousands of years old and not inclined to be shipped to another galaxy), but Daniel says good-bye to them separately. Each parting is bittersweet and leaves the taste of ashes and grief lingering in the back of his throat, a taste that he knows will fade with time but never quite go away, not if Atlantis turns out to be the one-way journey they all suspect it will. (_"__For the stranger's land may be bright and fair, and rich in its treasures golden. But you'll pine, I know, for the long, long ago and the love that is never olden.__"_)

  


  


  
He and Sam have a private night together, order in from their favorite Thai restaurant. They reminisce about the past long into the night and discuss everything he's going to miss about Earth. Daniel suspects she's half-hoping he will change his mind, though they both know he won't. When he rises to leave, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon, Sam whispers fiercely, "Stay safe, Daniel," and enfolds him in a hug so tight he swears he hears a few ribs creak. He pretends not to notice the catch in her voice or how her eyes are bright with unshed tears. Instead, he touches her cheek, gently, and says, "I'll do my best." It's the only promise Daniel can make that he might have the slimmest chance of keeping; it earns him a watery, ironic smile and a partially resigned laugh.

He meditates one last time with Teal'c-- though truth be told he spends most of the time with his eyes open, watching his friend instead. He studies the lines of Teal'c's face, the serene slant to his mouth, the slope of his broad shoulders, and attempts to commit it all to memory even though he knows (far better than most) how fragile memory truly is. Afterward, Teal'c presses a warm, tender hand to his shoulder and says, "I will miss you, Daniel Jackson. May your journey be all that you hope for," and then it is Teal'c's turn to ignore the tears prickling at the corners of Daniel's eyes.

Jack gives him a small, half-smile and ruffles his hair, chuckling as Daniel jerks his head away and glares. "Try not to drive Doctor Weir and Colonel Sumner crazy. When you re-establish contact, I don't want to hear how many times the colonel has threatened to shoot you." There are a thousand unsaid words and sentiments concealed in those simple sentences, and Daniel's throat is tight as he rolls his eyes and says dryly, "I think you should tell McKay that, not me. At least _I_ have people skills." Jack ruffles Daniel's hair one last time, warm, callused fingers lingering for a moment as he says, softer, gruffer, "We'll keep an eye on everything for you."

Everything. The Mountain. Earth. Catherine and Earnest. Cassie. All the people Daniel has come to know and care for over the years. Jack's words are more than a promise, they're an oath, and Daniel knows that even if he dies light-years away in the Pegasus galaxy, he will breathe his last breath knowing that the SGC, that Earth, is in good hands. Sam, Teal'c, and Jack will see to that.

  


  


**  
**

  


  


Daniel supposes that he should have paid attention when Rodney morosely calculated the odds of their doom, especially since the calculations now seem to have been all too accurate. It hasn't quite sunk in yet that they've gained and lost Atlantis in only a few brief hours, but Daniel knows when it finally does, he'll use profanity that would make even the most hardened Marine blush.

  


  
The one bright spot of the crisis is when Daniel convinces Colonel Sumner to let him join the group seeking out a safe planet, a place where they can survive when Atlantis falls. He has the most experience negotiating with natives, after all, and that's what persuades Elizabeth and Sumner into letting him go. Sumner keeps eyeing him suspiciously; he's probably recalling all the times Daniel sided with the indigenous people over the SGC. Either that or he simply doesn't trust a civilian not to screw things up. Daniel knows the type far too well.

On the first planet they visit, which is called Athos by the people living there, the air is crisp and clean and smells of pine trees and a recent rain. It looks just like every other planet Daniel's visited over the years. The natives radiate the usual mixture of politeness and wariness, courteously but firmly informing Colonel Sumner that they do not trade with strangers. (_Stranger:_ a newcomer in a place or locality; a person who is not a member of the family, group, community, or the like, as a visitor or guest. Daniel and the others with him are more strangers than even the Athosians suspect.) 

It's Major Sheppard (the man whose Ancient blood had allowed them to journey to the Pegasus galaxy in the first place) who breaks the ice by smiling at the Athosian leader and informing her that he likes "Ferris Wheels and, uh, college football; anything that goes more than two hundred miles per hour," which both confuses and entertains her if the softening of her features and the warming of her smile are anything to go by.

Daniel befriends an Athosian called Toran who insists that the remains of the city Sumner spots in the distance shouldn't be disturbed and that the Wraith will come if they upset the city's sanctity. Toran's eyes are dark and fiery with intensity as he urges them to avoid the city's remnants; he can't quite grasp that Daniel and the others have never heard of the Wraith.

"Then you should go back," he repeats, over and over again. "You have obviously been blessed by the Ancestors and hidden from the Wraith. Why would you spurn that gift? You should go back."  
  
"We can't," Daniel tells him.

Toran shakes his head and says sadly, "Then you will die like the rest of us." Daniel doesn't quite believe him (oh, he knows that Toran is in earnest, but surely the Wraith can't be as bad as the Goa'uld).

Then the Wraith come and Daniel begins to understand why despair flavors every word Toran speaks. He seizes his Beretta and takes aim at the shadowy figures leaping around him until he hears a shout from Sumner to fire on the ships. Then he turns his weapon upon the ships screaming overhead, firing again and again and wishing desperately for something with a little more fucking _firepower,_ like the rocket launcher a Marine has just used to bring a ship down.

Even as he pauses to reload, the Wraith beams sweep through the Athosian settlement, leaving empty spaces where terrified, fleeing people had been. He's still shooting when one of those white-bright beams engulfs him. 

  


  


  


The Wraith beam _hurts_ in a way that Asgard beaming technology never did. There's a moment of bright, sharp agony, as though needles have pierced every inch of him and burrowed beneath his skin like he always imagined a Goa'uld symbiote would-- and then both the sensation and the agony vanish and Daniel finds himself flat on his back, his gaze meeting the concerned eyes of an unfamiliar Athosian, the Beretta gone from his hands as though it had never been there at all.

He looks around at those captured and resists the urge to sigh at familiar faces. Toran. Colonel Sumner. Several Marines he doesn't know by name. Teyla Emmagan and the other leader of the Athosians, Halling. Emmagan is being helped to her feet, her face ashen. The group's expressions vary from resignation (Emmagan and Halling), to terror (Toran and the other Athosians), to fury (Sumner and the Marines).

Daniel's unsure of what his expression looks like; there's no mirror with which to examine his own reflection. He looks around as one of the Marines helps him to his feet. They're in a cell (of _course_, and damn it all if his picklocks aren't packed away with his belongings on Atlantis and completely fucking useless at the moment). Despite the danger they are in, though, Daniel can't help but study the Wraith architecture and compare it to the architecture of all the other races he's seen and studied over the years. The cell door looks almost like a spider's web and he wonders how the texture would feel beneath his fingers. Judging by the way the group avoids the door, it's probably unpleasant. At least he feels a little less stupid, knowing that his picklocks probably wouldn't have done them any good.

"Any idea what to expect?" Sumner asks Emmagan and Daniel looks up, frowning at the colonel's tone. There is a hint of dislike in his voice, a touch of suspicion, and Daniel can see anger flare in Emmagan's eyes. Before she can speak, Sumner gestures to the pale-faced Toran and says, "Your friend was the one who said the Wraith would come if we went down into the ruins."

All of the Athosians bridle and Daniel resists the urge to groan. Surely it's obvious to Sumner that the accusation of aligning oneself with the Wraith is a great-- if not _the_ greatest-- insult in the Pegasus galaxy. He opens his mouth to speak, to try and smooth the ruffled feathers, but Halling beats him to it with a sharp, pointed, "Perhaps you should have heeded his warning." Now the Marines are bristling at the implied insult to their commander, and oh yes, even if the Wraith simply leave them here to starve, there's going to be bloodshed eventually, Athosian versus Marine, Halling versus Sumner.

"What the colonel means--" he begins, trying for a conciliatory tone, and then stops at the thunderous sound of approaching footsteps. "What is that?" he asks, though he already knows. The Wraith are coming to survey their prizes.

Sure enough, three Wraith come to the door of the cell. Daniel takes the opportunity to study his newest enemy in a long, long line of foes, trying to ignore the bone-deep weariness as he does so. Why does every single galaxy have its own equivalent of the Goa'uld or the Replicators? Can't there be a peaceful galaxy? Still, he looks and commits their features to memory. 

The Wraith are nothing like the Goa'uld and everything like something out of a child's nightmare-- grotesque, pale specters who don't even speak, just silently open the door to the cage and examine their prisoners for a moment. Two are identical at first glance, though Daniel suspects there might be differences if he had the time or inclination to peer closer. The duo seems to be the subordinates of the white-haired one, who's tall and hungry-looking, with eyes like a shark's and a mouth with an overabundance of vicious-looking teeth. The Wraith are all fairly androgynous, though Daniel suspects they are male, if the Wraith's sexuality is anything similar to humans and has male and female genders.

Appearances can be deceiving, Daniel knows, but he doubts that's the case here, with these creatures that look like they live under beds, waiting to devour the unwary child. No wonder Toran thought him blessed never to have known who or what the Wraith were.

Sumner steps forward to meet the Wraith as they enter the cell, no trace of fear in his voice or face as he says, "I'm Colonel Marshall Sum--"

The white-haired Wraith throws him across the cell as casually as one would toss a piece of trash and with even less feeling. Daniel winces when the colonel crashes heavily on the floor, but one of the Marines is already crouched next to him, seeing if he's all right. Daniel forces his hands to unclench -- fists would not be much of a weapon against these three, he suspects -- and watches as the lead Wraith surveys the group.

Those cold, hungry eyes fall on Toran and linger, and the Athosian blanches when the Wraith gestures. One of the guards step forward, and Toran whimpers out a denial that quickly becomes a choked cry as the Wraith seizes him by the throat and hauls him from the cell. Daniel takes a step forward, feet moving without his permission, and the third Wraith just turns in his direction and _looks_. Daniel's hands are fists again and it is only Halling's hand on his shoulder and the low plea to be still that stops him from stepping forward and seeing how well human fists actually work against the mask the Wraith wears.

Toran kicks and claws at his captor, cries out for help when the creature's hand loosens enough for his words to escape. The Wraith ignore Emmagan and Sumner's demands to take them in the struggling man's place. Daniel feels something go tight and cold in his chest when Toran's terrified gaze flickers back towards them as the Wraith drags him down the corridor. (_For death is printed on his face and o'er his heart is stealin'_\-- and Daniel has seen death on too many faces not to recognize it.)

After the Wraith head back the way they came, Toran's choked screams for mercy still echoing in Daniel's ears, Sumner turns to Emmagan and says, "Tell me all you can about the Wraith." He pauses, and Daniel watches the colonel's Adam's apple bob as he swallows and adds a low, fierce, "Please." There is no trace of fear in his words, no hint of the suspicion and dislike that had tainted his words just a few minutes ago, only an intensity which assures those listening that he will not play the damsel-in-distress and wait around for a rescue or for the Wraith to decide their fates.

Listening to that fierce, determined voice, Daniel thinks he understands why Jack was so hell-bent on Sumner leading the military side of the expedition. This is a man who will do anything in his power to get his and Emmagan's people out of danger. "There are three of them and twelve of us," he points out, his mind examining all Toran told him about the Wraith and all he's seen for himself. Everyone's gazes turn toward him as he adds, "If we work together, we might be able to overpower them."

The Athosians and a few of the Marines look dubious, and Daniel doesn't blame them. After all, who really thinks they can defeat the boogeyman? After a moment, though, Emmagan inclines her head and says, "Even if we do not succeed, we will not have died without a fight. What is your plan?"

Daniel looks into her calm, grave eyes and tells her.

  


  


**

  


**

  


  


When the Wraith's footsteps reach their ears, everyone gets into position. Sumner sits by the door, holding his head as though still dizzy from his hard landing. Daniel and one of the Marines -- Bates, a grim-faced man who had looked unconvinced at Daniel's plan but nevertheless saluted and barked out a matter-of-fact, "Yessir," at Sumner's order to follow Daniel's instructions -- crouch next to him.

  


  
The rest of the group is clustered like frightened sheep on the other side of the door to the cell, flinching back when the door opens and the three Wraith begin to enter.

"Now," Daniel says, and the group springs into action.

Daniel, Bates, and Sumner launch themselves at the legs of the Wraith, trying to tackle them to the ground. All three Wraith stumble, and now the rest of the captives pounce, throwing their bodies at the Wraith, trying to overwhelm them with pure numbers. From his position on the ground, wrapped around a guard Wraith's legs, Daniel watches Emmagan seize a fistful of the lead Wraith's hair and _pull_, earning a roar of rage that turns to a dismayed screech as Sumner throws himself against its legs for a second time.

It teeters and falls. The group swarms over the Wraith, stomping at it, their yells of victory drowning out its pained shrieks.

One of the guard Wraith thrashes wildly-- his boot catches the side of Bates's head and the Marine goes flying, knocking one of the Athosians over as well as he rolls across the floor. The freed Wraith grabs one of the Marines by the throat and begins to squeeze.

"No," Halling snarls and throws himself bodily against the Wraith. Daniel's startled to realize that they're much the same height. Halling's face is red with effort and twisted with fury as he struggles with his foe, whose grip gradually loosens on the Marine until the man can pull away, gasping for oxygen. Halling forces the Wraith out of the cell, slowly but surely, and now there is actual hope in the Athosians' eyes as they continue kicking and stomping on the fallen Wraith.

Daniel curls himself around both feet of the trashing guard, his entire body already shaking from the effort to bring the Wraith down to the ground. These Wraith are incredibly strong, and Daniel now understands why it seemed so careless and easy when the Wraith threw Sumner-- it _was _easy. His muscles scream at him to let go, but he tightens his grip instead as one of the Marines tries to punch the Wraith's mask. The Marine pulls back, howling and clutching his fist and presumably broken knuckles, and Daniel's grateful that he hadn't tried it earlier.

Within a few minutes, though, it's over, the Wraith tossing the Athosians and Marines off them like dolls, the lead Wraith surging to its feet and snarling. Daniel hears cries of pain and the snapping of bone as people crash against the cell walls, and then he too is kicked away, breath escaping his lips in one pained exhale as the Wraith's foot connects with his chest. He thinks he hears a rib or two crack.

At last, even Halling is driven back into the cell. There's a deep, painful-looking cut on his forehead and he limps heavily from a vicious blow to his knee.

The lead Wraith's hair is tangled now, something like blood trickling down its face, and its eyes are bright with fury. It snarls at them, the sound rising when no one cringes and instead looks grimly back. They've done their best, after all. These Wraith won't soon forget _this_ particular group of captives. After a moment, the lead Wraith gestures, sharply, and the other Wraith step forward. Somehow, Daniel isn't surprised when one of the Wraith grabs him by the throat and hauls him from the cell. There's a loud protest from behind him, but it isn't until he's been dragged several feet further that he's able to twist and see that they've taken Sumner as well.

He closes his eyes and goes limp. Let the Wraith have to drag his dead (figuratively, of course) weight all the way to their destination. His eyes are still closed when the Wraith stops and drops him to the floor. Once again his breath is knocked from him, and he mentally curses at the white-hot flare of pain in his chest. Definitely a broken rib or two. A fragment of memory surfaces, one of Janet scolding him as she bandaged up his sprained wrist and reminded him that he wasn't indestructible, and he dizzily wonders what Cassie is doing right now.

  
  


Daniel opens his eyes just in time to watch the three Wraith leave the room, the door shutting behind them.

Sumner's sprawled a few feet away; he's holding his head again. Pain deepens the lines around his mouth. "I'm all right, Doctor Jackson," he grunts when he meets Daniel's gaze. A cynical smile touches his lips as he adds, "Just a little bump to the head. Nothing fatal."

Daniel nods and then looks around. They are in what looks to be the Wraith equivalent of a dining hall, judging by the table and bountiful amount of food covering the table's surface. The bountiful amount of disgusting, unappetizing food, that is. It all looks several days -- if not weeks -- old. If he even sampled some of the meal, he'd be doubled over with food poisoning almost instantly. Still, he hasn't eaten since before they went through the wormhole to Atlantis, and he feels a small pang of hunger despite his revulsion, his mouth suddenly parched.

His gaze passes over the table a second time before he notices someone sitting there. It takes another moment for Daniel to realize that it's Toran's corpse, the Athosian looking withered and a hundred years old, as though someone sucked every last drop of liquid from his frame, drained his very life from him. Daniel's breath catches in his throat for a moment. Toran had told him that the Wraith thought of them as prey. Is this what happened when the Wraith fed?

"Shit," he hears Sumner mutter and knows Sumner's caught sight of Toran.

"Shit," Daniel agrees and then they turn at the sound of something landing heavily on the floor behind them.

It's another Wraith, this one decidedly female, her long red hair vibrant and shocking compared to the earlier Wraith's pale coloring. Her mouth contorts into a smile, showing off her sharp, dangerous teeth that Daniel can see even without his glasses, which are somewhere back in the cell, probably crushed under someone's foot. "You must feel hunger by now," she says, voice harsh, grating, and then snarls. She snarls louder when neither Sumner nor Daniel flinch. "What do you call yourselves?" she demands.

"Colonel Marshall Sumner, United States Marine Corps."

Daniel mentally laughs and it's all he can do not to let himself actually smile. Of course Sumner would give the Wraith his name and rank. Next he'll tell her his serial number. "Doctor Daniel Jackson," he adds when the Wraith's gaze lingers on him. He meets her eyes calmly. Is she the one who killed Toran, turned his corpse into that of an old man? This Wraith exudes a level of maliciousness, an aura of strength and hunger, that the other Wraith had not.

  
  


"So little fear," she says and begins to circle them. Daniel stays still, letting only his eyes track her. He's aware of Sumner doing the same. She reminds him even more of a shark now, circling her trapped prey until she gets bored and devours them. "Is it valor?" She offers them another view of her sharp, dangerous teeth. "Or ignorance?"

"We traveled through the Stargate as peaceful explorers," Sumner replies. His tone is empty of all feeling; he's simply reciting a fact she needs to be made aware of.

This time, the Wraith ignores him. "You must eat, yet you resist your hunger. Why?"

"Why have you taken us prisoner?" Daniel interjects. He pretends not to notice Sumner's sharp look. Surely the colonel didn't think Daniel was going to let him do _all_ the talking. Daniel is well-versed in debating with their captors, distracting them until someone can rescue them. It's all about delaying whatever plans the villains have until it's too late.

"You trespassed upon our feeding ground," she informs him.

His gaze involuntarily flickers towards Toran's remains. When he looks back, the Wraith is smiling again, a cold, cruel look of amusement.

"Feeding ground?" Sumner asks.

"All living things must eat. In this, I'm sure we are similar." She pauses, takes a step closer to Sumner. Again, he doesn't flinch and instead watches her. "You feel hunger even now-- I sense it. Why do you resist?"

Sumner just looks at her for a moment. "Why do you care?"

"Hunger is...." The Wraith pauses. Her expression changes to something that could be a grimace. "Distasteful."

Sumner looks toward Toran's body. "Looks to me like the food didn't agree with him," he drawls, that same cynical note from earlier creeping into his voice.

Daniel can't quite help the snort of mingled surprise and amusement that escapes him. Still, Daniel suspects that Sumner's unquestionably ill-timed emergence of a dark sense of humor is yet another reason why Jack chose him as the military leader for Atlantis.

Rather than look annoyed at his taunt, the Wraith's smile widens. "There we are quite dissimilar, Colonel Sumner," she says and reaches out to stroke Toran's cheek. Daniel watches in morbid fascination as some of Toran's skin dissolves at her touch. "We don't require our food to agree with us." She pauses and steps away from the corpse, closer to Sumner. They are almost face-to-face and though Sumner's expression doesn't change, Daniel sees a hint of sweat lining his brow, tension in his neck and shoulders that betray his unease and trepidation. "Now, tell me. What do you call your world?"

Daniel watches, surprised, as Sumner's expression suddenly contorts, his knees half-buckling as though he's been struck with a blow Daniel didn't see. A muscle jumps in his jaw as the Wraith moves closer to him and repeats, "What do you call your world?" There's a note in her voice that Daniel doesn't recognize, one that's low and almost wheedling. Sumner struggles for another moment, eyes wide and desperate like a caged animal, and then Daniel remembers the shadowy figures that seemed to be only in his imagination. Did the Wraith have some sort of telepathic ability?

He lunges forward, hands going for the Wraith's neck as he shouts, "Fight it, Colonel!" His hands grab her throat and he has enough time to squeeze once, feel something like a heartbeat beneath his palms, before she grabs him by the shoulder and sends him tumbling onto and over the table, crashing into-- through-- Toran's corpse and choking on the dust that comes off Toran's bones as the corpse dissolves. He hits the ground hard and if his ribs were only cracked before, they're probably broken now, the white-hot pain receding to a dull, steady ache that makes it impossible to take in a deep breath.

His head's spinning; he must have hit it at some point because darkness lurks at the corner of his vision. Daniel struggles to keep his eyes open, to fight against oblivion. He can't leave Sumner alone to face the Wraith, not when she's asking about Earth and probably using telepathy to try and force Sumner to answer. As though from far away, he hears Sumner shouting and cursing, tries to get to his feet when Sumner's protests turn into a scream of agony. 

  
  


Daniel falls half onto the table instead, rotten fruit exploding beneath his chest and spreading out across his shirt. "Sumner," he mutters, reaches out with shaking hands to grab at the Wraith, yank on her hair, anything to stop whatever she's doing to the colonel.

"Do not interfere," the Wraith snarls, irritation on her face as she turns to bare her teeth at him.  

He stares back into those hard, cold eyes, forces out a ragged, "Sumner, _fight_ her--" She seizes him by the throat, squeezes with a hand that is slick and wet with what feels like blood, and then he's fighting to breathe, the pressure on his throat and the agony of his ribs combining until darkness completely swathes his vision, makes Sumner's continued curses sound as though they're coming from underwater. Then the pressure is gone and the Wraith's shriek reverberates inside his skull.

  


This time, Daniel doesn't open his eyes, just lets himself fall back against the table and focuses on keeping himself conscious. There are sounds-- the Wraith guards snarling, Sumner shouting-- but they're momentarily unimportant when compared to breathing in sweet, glorious oxygen. Someone grabs him by the arm, nails digging into his flesh, and he flinches before realizing that it's a human hand.

  
  


When he forces his eyes open, it's one of the lieutenants who hadn't been caught up in a Wraith beam, Hayes or Ford or Grant, some kid with the name of a former American president. His eyes are wide, his young, earnest features anxious, and Daniel wonders who the hell thought sending a kid barely old enough to vote on a one-way trip to another galaxy was a good idea. "We have to go, Doctor Jackson," he says. Behind him, a gray-faced and bloody Sumner leans heavily against Sheppard. When Daniel looks around for the Wraith, he sees the crumpled forms of both the female Wraith and her two guards, all three shot in the head.

  
  


"What--" he begins, the word half-cracking as it leaves his abused throat, and swallows the rest of his question at Sheppard's terse, "Ask questions in the puddlejumper."

  
  


_Puddlejumper?_ Daniel wants to ask, but then he looks up and sees what's put the razor-sharpness into Sheppard's voice. Above them, dozens of Wraith are beginning to wriggle in their cells, apparently awakened by the disturbance or the other Wraith's deaths. "Right," he says, and tries to stand on his own. He ends up leaning on the lieutenant as his head begins to spin. He licks his lips, almost gags at the thin layer of dust there, and forces out, "Lead the way."

  


  


**

  


**

  


  


Daniel returns to Atlantis with a dead man's dust in his mouth, Marshall Sumner's blood drying on his hands, and the image of those awakened Wraith seared forever into his memory. He closes his eyes for a moment, exhaustion turning his bones to stone and intensifying every ache in his abused frame. His head hurts from when he was thrown onto the table and there's a roaring in his ears that he knows from experience means he's going to collapse if he doesn't get either food or rest, preferably both.

  


  


The roaring sounds like water rather than blood, and he murmurs to himself, voice raw, "_Avant nous et après nous, le déluge_." Before us and after us, the flood-- the disaster, the destruction. He thinks of Toran with his intense eyes and despairing voice who probably died screaming. Daniel should have known Atlantis would not be the utopia he longed for.

  


  


"Let's get you to the infirmary," someone says quietly. When he forces his eyes open, Sheppard's weary eyes meet his. Doctor Beckett had whisked Sumner off to the infirmary after one glance at the colonel's injuries-- a lump on his forehead and a chest wound that looked as though the Wraith had pressed her hand against Sumner's chest and dug in her nails, tearing through flesh and bruising muscle.

  


  


"All right," Daniel says huskily, too weary to protest. Besides, he needs to save the remnants of his strength for the doctors who will just tell him what he already knows-- he's got one or two broken ribs and needs to eat and rest-- and then try to force painkillers down his throat. He takes the arm that Sheppard offers him and adds, "How did you know where to find us?"

  


  


A corner of Sheppard's mouth twitches into a smile. "Lieutenant Ford memorized the gate address the Wraith used."

  


  


"Give the lieutenant a promotion," Daniel says, half-sarcastic, half-sincere.

  


  


Sheppard barks out a laugh and then leads him slowly but surely to the infirmary.

  


  


**

  


**

  


  


It isn't until later that evening that the heads of the various departments gather in the infirmary, circling Sumner's bed. The Athosians weren't invited, something Daniel will have to discuss with Elizabeth after the meeting. The Athosians are now refugees in Atlantis; they should have _some_ sort of voice. Sumner still looks tired and strained, with silver in his hair and lines around his mouth that hadn't been there two days ago. Beckett hovers over him like a worried mother hen.

  


  
Daniel has been confined to the bed next to Sumner. His three broken ribs still ache every time he breathes, but it's a pain he can ignore for the time being. Every few minutes, Beckett's gaze flickers over to him almost beseechingly, as though if Beckett looks worriedly at him for long enough, Daniel will give in and take the painkillers. Daniel just looks back, and after a moment Beckett sighs and returns his anxious gaze to Sumner instead.

"First, let's look at what we know," Elizabeth says, voice breaking into Daniel's thoughts. She looks tired as well, like she's slept even less than Daniel did, and haggard, like she spent the entire night worrying over their situation, but her voice is firm and matter-of-fact. "One, without any other ZPMs, we cannot return to Earth. Two, there is a race known as the Wraith, which lives off of humans and possibly defeated the Ancients. Three, we have limited resources." She pauses, letting that sink in. "Right now, therefore, we have three main concerns: finding a ZPM or alternate power source, gaining allies, and learning more about the Wraith."

"And how are we going to do that?" Rodney demands.

Elizabeth nods at him, as though he'd asked a valid question rather than snapped at her. "I was just about to explain, Rodney. Colonel, my plan was to divide your people into teams, much like the SGC does. Some teams will look for a ZPM, others will establish trade relations, and the rest will gather intel on the Wraith." Sumner frowns but nods after a moment, acknowledging the wisdom of her plan. "Rodney, we'll need several of your scientists to join the teams."

Rodney opens his mouth to protest, face turning an interesting shade of purple, and she adds smoothly, "I will of course help you and Colonel Sumner form them." Rodney shuts his mouth, looking sulky but resigned.

She turns to Daniel. "Doctor Jackson, I will need you to focus on the Ancient database, since you are the most fluent in Ancient."  

"My pleasure," he answers, summoning up a smile that is mostly in earnest. Within the database will be numerous wonders, of course, but he also wants to see Pegasus and meet peoples other than the Athosians, learn how they have lived under the Wraith's tyranny. "I expect you want me to concentrate on finding the how-to manual for ZPMs?" His tone is dry as the deserts of Abydos, and even Rodney smiles.

"That would be a start," Elizabeth says, just as dry, and then asks if anyone has any questions as everyone's attention shifts away from Daniel and back to thoughts of their own survival.

Afterward, once the department heads have drifted away and out the door of the infirmary and Sumner has closed his eyes and apparently gone to sleep, Elizabeth stands next to Daniel's bed and just looks at him. He can't read the look in her eyes, whether it is fondness or exasperation or a bittersweet mixture of both. "Take the damn painkillers, Daniel," she says at last, and oh, there is _steel_ behind those words. "Or at least some aspirin. We need you at your best, not half-distracted by pain." 

And that, if nothing else, is enough to make him concede and take the aspirin. He'd already planned to, of course-- he has nothing against pain medication, and prefers, shockingly enough, _not_ to be in pain, but he hadn't wanted that distant, floaty feeling during this meeting. "All right," he says, and watches a slow smile ease some of the strain in her face. "Elizabeth. The Athosians must have a voice as well if they're going to be living on Atlantis. Invite Halling and Emmagan to the next meeting." 

Her brief smile dims, Daniel mourning its passing a little, and Elizabeth sighs. "I'm not sure how the colonel will feel about that, but I'll speak with him, and with Halling." 

"The Athosians also probably have established alliances throughout the galaxy," he adds, and watches gratitude flicker across her face. It's a good way to spin this so that Sumner cannot argue (much). 

"Take the medication and get some sleep," she says, gently this time.

  
  


He recognizes that as a thank-you, and so he nods and looks around for Beckett or a nurse. By the time he has gingerly flagged one down and swallowed the painkillers, Elizabeth is gone, and the infirmary lights are beginning to dim. He closes his eyes, leans back on his pillow, and dreams of the ocean lapping against the shores of the city, deep and endless and full of wonders. 

 


End file.
